


Failing Cupid

by handlewithkara



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Bickering, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Jealousy, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22983727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handlewithkara/pseuds/handlewithkara
Summary: Mon-El is back in town and finds out about William Dey. His methods to encourage Kara to give love another chance are ... unconventional.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Mon-El, Minor Kara Danvers/William Dey - Relationship, Minor William Dey/Mon-El
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47





	Failing Cupid

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language and I don't have a beta reader :(

Mon-El isn’t sure what he expected to find when he steps out of the time bubble.

The DEO agents, ever skeptical, surround it, weapons ready. Not exactly trained at him, but fingers twitching. It’s only fair though, he didn’t really have the chance to properly announce himself.

And in their midst: Kara. The spark of realization travels across her features. She seems tense like he just pulled out of an important meeting.

“Wow,” she says, her eyes wide. “You really have the worst timing.”

Kara regrets saying it immediately, Mon-El can tell from her mouth opens, before the way she lowers her eyes and nervously bites her lip, before looking up artlessly, a faint blush coloring her cheek. She didn’t mean to say it, but she doesn’t know how to take it back either. Not in right in the middle of her agents.

Mon-El just smiles and downplays it. After all, he is the guest here, and Kara takes his silent offer to pretend nothing was ever said with relief. He steps up and they shake hands, like two generals, meeting on a battlefield.

Two allied generals.

There is this moment of breathless awkwardness when he worries that she’s going to say no to his proposal. To send him away. His back stiffens. His mind races, cycling once more through all the justifications he told himself for why he’s here. Why it makes sense for him to be here. Why he should be allowed to stay.

This is about Brainy after all. After Winn’s report, there was no question that something had to be done. It should be a routine mission. There are solid reasons why he chose himself to come. There are solid reasons why he didn’t bring anybody else for now. They are short-staffed after all. He is the sensible choice.

After the way they parted, all those reasons seem surprisingly flimsy when faced with her.

Kara nods quietly, authoritatively and with that, it's done. His reasons are accepted.

It goes over a lot smoother than he expected. This should be routine. This shouldn’t be getting to him like this.

*

He follows her purposeful stride.

_You really have the worst timing._

It’s not like Kara to have an outburst like this. This isn’t how things were left between them, or at least that’s what he thought.

It doesn’t take long for him to see the reason why, why she said it like that. There is a chiseled perfection to the man waltzing into the DEO. Mon-El doesn’t even have to check Kara’s reaction to him. He stands out on his own, despite being a civilian.

Though Mon-El still thinks he can feel Kara’s angry glare against the back of his head.

A reporter. British accent. In great shape. Clothes that stand out.

Mon-El isn’t sure how to feel. What he expected to find. He certainly didn’t expect her to still be alone. He’s prepared himself for this, to see her with somebody else. Truth to be told, his mind has expected much more. His obsessive thoughts have painted him countless pictures, spinning continuously everywhere he walked, every time he gave a speech, every time he lead a charge or slammed his fist into the body of an enemy. Every time he gave council. Every time he made the watchful rounds. Always, there, always spinning after seeing her again. After knowing where and how she is. That he could reach her, even if he shouldn’t.

Who did he expect? Maybe another gentle and artistic soul, like James Olsen? A fellow hero and companion to slip seamlessly into her lives? A jokey fun guy who makes her laugh?

This William Dey… Of all the people, Mon-El guesses that he reminds him of Kal-El the most. All determined, poised, mixed with the beauty of an ancient statue, combined with what Mon-El is already sure is a good heart.

A fair choice.

They haven’t exchanged a word and Mon-El is already pretty sure that he would like William if given the chance.

There is no fight here. Kara isn’t a prize to be fought over, no heroic battle, no breathless race to the finish line. And even if there was, he’s already lost.

Mon-El wants to tell her that he’s okay with that, except what right does he even have to assume that she would care?

What were they to each other, the last time he was here? Mon-El isn’t sure. There were moments when he thought that they were inching towards a friendship. Except… the longer he stayed, the more he realized that it was a hopeless cause. He’ll never be able to be just a friend to Kara.

How foolish he was. Starry-eyed, naive. At first, he thought he could escape her. Then he told himself they could meet as equals, companions. That he could prove to her that he had been worthy of her trust. That he could attain her pride and that would be enough.

Only, it was all useless in the end. All the lies he told himself, all the honorable personas he tried to cling to stell himself against her pull.

The truth is simple: She’ll never be anything but Kara. She’ll never be anything but his love. No matter how he tried to flee into the familiar role of the responsible leader, the evolved husband.

He wanted to be her friend. _Just_ a friend. A dream of still being able to be close to her. To bask in her presence, in her light. To wallow in the addiction of her smile. To be close, oh so close again to the person who inspired him, without having to give up on everything she’s taught him.

The thought of disappointing everybody, but above all of disappointing her, it crushed his heart. He remembers the distress on her face when she saw him again and he pulled away. The crushing knowledge that his only choice was between disappointing her as a lover or as a hero.

In the end, he chose the hero, telling himself that this would make her proud long term. After all, she’s Kara. Either choice would hurt her, but in his heart, Mon-El is sure that Kara could never live with the hurt that might be caused to others.

*

And so Mon-El shuts up. He catches up with Brainy. Gets briefed on the current situation.

Takes note of Dreamer and the effect she has on Querl, no matter how much Querl might try to hide it. Mon-El can’t help but wish them well, but something tells him that those crazy kids will be alright.

That leaves only one stone unturned, one question unanswered.

Once again, Mon-El pulls the face of that man, William, up in front of his mind's eye. His jaw, his brow, his eyes. A pleasant face. Mon-El tries to love it. Love it on Kara’s behalf. Surprisingly, it’s not that hard.

He remembers the first time he pictured her with another man. How fear gripped his heart. He was so full of hate and panic back then. Burning with righteous indignation that he might lose out when he’d gotten close, so fucking close to paradise. He’d acted like an oaf, upset at the prospect that his prize might get snatched away right from under his nose. To see her trump Mxyzptlk all on her own, it had floored him. A kick right in the teeth, to remind him that she wasn’t some prize to be fought over and captured.

He’s different now, at least that’s what Mon-El tells himself. Now when he pictures Kara with that man, William, there’s only a bittersweet yearning coursing through his chest. The man with her is just a mere shadow in front of his mind’s eye, and instead, all he can think of is her smile. He wants the world for her. It’s his eternal torment to think that he left her blemished, with some sort of scar on her soul. There are so many things he wants to tell her, even as he knows that he’s not supposed to.

He steps up to her side.

“He seems nice. William. I like him.”

Kara tenses. “He’s been a good ally,” she says evasively.  
  
"I believe that." He rests his forearms on the balcony's railing. "I heard about the Pulitzer. Congratulations. You deserve it."  
  
Her eyes narrow. "Thanks."  
  
Mon-El looks at his hand. "Must be nice to have somebody in the same profession around to exchange stories with."  
  
"It is." Her voice sounds spritely.   
  
"He seems new in town, have you..."  
  
"Did Winn tell you about him?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Did Winn tell you that I was thinking about going out with William? Why did you come here, Mon-El? To check up on me? To make sure I'm taken care of?" She hisses. “Just so you know, I’m not gonna ask him out just so you feel better about yourself!”

“That’s not what I mean. Please, Kara, I don’t want things to be like this between us.”

“Not like this? Not like what?”

He licks his lips nervously. “For us to hurt each other. For each word between us to come out wrong. I still care about you. I always will. I want you to be happy. It means something to me to see you happy.” _The world weeps when you are not smiling._ “My world is better for you being in it. My world is better for you being happy.”

She’s struggling for a reply. He can see it. Anger and sadness and, dare he say so, hints of yearning battle in her eyes. It makes Mon-El’s heart ache, that once again he is the reason for this struggle. “Please,” he says, “I want to help.”

Supergirl’s shoulders slump. Her voice softens. “I know you do. I just don’t know if it’s the right way.”

“I don’t know either. All I know is, that the way it is now isn’t working.” Mon-El knows that it is selfish of him to say that just because that’s what it’s like for him and it’s presumptuous to declare it’s not working for her, but what else can he do. There is this impasse between them. He could tell himself that he’s just trying to clear the air, so they’ll be better allies, better fighters, better protectors. But the truth is that it just hurts. “Please, Kara, talk to me. Are you happy?” _What can I do to make it better?_

She sways on her feet, lightly, as if she’s deciding between two answers. Her head falls forward as she looks down, her hair briefly obscures her face. She shakes her head a quiet >no<, probably without even realizing, she is doing it. “I’m good.” Her answer is labored, hard. “I cope. There’s happiness. There’s success.”

“There could be more.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “With you?”

Mon-EL winces. “Not with me. With William. With anybody.”

“I don’t need a lover, a boyfriend, to be happy.”

“Of course you don’t. But it’s still nice, isn’t it?”

Kara smiles, her shuffle more nervous girlish this time. It almost looks out of place. She tilts her head. Just the lightest flush on her cheeks. _The brightness of her cheeks would outshine the stars._ “I guess you could be fun. Sometimes.”

“I’m glad.” Their laughs pearl together, like two bottles of champagne pouring into the same glass.

He asks the question that he’s afraid of. The one that has haunted him. “Is it my fault?”

She bristles, prideful. Bites her lip in anger. Fire in her stunning eyes.

“It’s not about you. It’s not just about you,” she corrects herself. “It’s about me. It, it never was easy for me, to, to give my heart like that. To be open like that.”

“I know.” _Or rather, I know now._ Mon-El isn’t really sure he ever appreciated the gift she gave him, back when she did. “You haven given me, you have given the world so much. So much happiness. You deserve to be happy, too. And… ” a lump is building up in his throat. “I want to say I’m sorry for all the times I failed to make you happy.”

“You made me plenty happy,” she says. The smile on the lips is soft and mournful. “And you’ve made me very proud.”

There was a time when he thought that nothing in this world could ever beat the feeling of having her say this. So why does it feel like a hollow victory.

“Look, Mon-El,” she says and tears herself away from his gaze. “The past is the past. There’s nothing between me and William. And it’s good that way.”

He opens his mouth to dispute. Instead, his back stiffens. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

She nods. “Good.”

Why are her cheeks so pale, still? This it the point where he should stop. He’s gotten better with this, he thinks. The Legion, being responsible for so many people has taught him so much. And yes, faced with her Mon-El finds himself stuck. Lost in her gaze.

“May I take your hand?” Her eyes widen. She hesitates. Finally, she presses her lips together and nods, her hands on the balustrade pushing towards him. Mon-El takes them like the world’s most precious gift.

“I never deserved you.”

She smiles sadly. “That’s not really how it works, is it.”

It’s so easy to get trapped in the miracle of her eyes. “There was nothing logical about falling in love with you. Never.”

“You sure about that?” Something about the undertone of her voice makes him want to kiss her, even more so than always. It makes him wonder, wonder about when the last time was that her lips have been kissed. How anybody in the world could not want to kiss them. What crime it is to the world to have her eyes be filled with so much sadness.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “for letting me get this off my chest.”

*

He stands at the counter at Noonan’s nursing a colorful drink with a name he doesn’t remember, waiting for Dreamer to join him when the door opens and _he_ walks in. William Dey. Looks distracted. Wears a somewhat questionable tweed jacket as he steps up and orders the usual.

 _Just keep your head down, Don’t get involved in Kara’s life,_ he tells himself. Of course, Mon-El can’t keep his mouth shut. “Hey, you William Dey aren’t you?”

The man whips around and looks at him in surprise. _Grife,_ as a reporter he probably isn’t just used to positive attention. “You work with Kara Danvers, right.” Mon-El smiles disarmingly and offers his hand. “Mike, Mike Matthews.”

Dey takes the offered hand and they shake. “So you are an old friend of Kara’s?”

“Something like that.” Dey seems confused. “I used to work for CatCo, too.” Mon-El grins. “Kara tried to get me a job there, lasted about five minutes.”

William frowns. “What happened?”

Mon-El shrugs. “I figured out it just wasn’t for me. I took a different path. I’m lucky she didn’t hold it against me. Kara can be pretty demanding.” _Wait,_ he’s not supposed to talk about her. So he smiles and opts to change the subject, gently steering Dey towards a table. “So, how long have you been in town, had a chance yet to enjoy the sights?”

Dey plunks down on his chair, holding his coffee, blinking like he isn’t completely sure how he got there. A frown marks his handsome face. “Not really. Uh, as a reporter, I travel a lot, but it often seems I get to see more of the worst parts of a city, not their best.”

“That sucks.” Dey looks up in surprise and Mon-El smiles at him. “You are missing out.”

He can’t quite stop himself from playfully grabbing the man’s arm. Kara used to tease him on this, claimed his ingrained instinct when he feels out of his depth is to flirt.

“I’m sure, I’ll find the time eventually,” William says reluctantly. “Kara, she’s really helped to put me at ease and I thought…” William stops himself.

 _Don’t give up on her,_ Mon-El wants to say. _She is worth every heartbreak._ Except Kara would kill him if she caught him trying to play Cupid for her and William.

Somehow he gets the impression that William isn’t the kind of guy to be impressed by idle small talk. The man is a reporter, hunting for a story, hunting for truth. To catch his interest, Mon-El is going to have to offer him something different, something real.

“I didn’t really live here for long. Just about a year. It’s not the world’s most beautiful city, but if you are anything like me, you will find it’s a hard place to let go of anyway.” Mon-El smiles solemnly.

William raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like there might be a story behind there.”

Mon-El leans in and grins. “Isn’t there always.”

The door flies open, giving way to Dreamer and Kara, chatting pleasantly. Kara freezes when she sees him, no, the two of them, him and William. Mon-El waves at her. She walks over to them reluctantly.

“Hi, Kara,” Mon-El beams at her. “I was just chatting with your friend William.”  
  
"Hi, William. Hi ... Mike."

Mon-El pretends to absentmindedly check his phone while addressing Dey. “Say, I’m only in town for a few days. Surely you have a gym here, you wouldn’t happen to know if they take one-offs?”

Dey blinks. “In fact they do. Wait, let me give you their number.”

Kara is staring daggers at them, thankfully Dey has his back to her and if it’s up to Mon-El he’s not going to find out. Mon-El fears for the chair though whose backrest Kara is clutching when William innocently asks for his number. They complete the exchange, with Dey rattling off recommendations for the best trainers and training times.

“Thank a bunch, “ Mon-El smiles, “You’re a real lifesaver.” He offers William his hand. “How about we meet up and grab some drinks together afterwards.”

They shake on it. Kara’s eyes look like they are about to bug out of her face. Thankfully, she pulls herself together quickly, because William smiles and turns to her. “Will I be seeing you, Danvers, about…”

Kara smiles at him through gritted teeth. “Yes, absolutely.” She raises her eyebrows pointedly in his direction as if to say _Not in front of him_ and William nods in agreement.

Reporter secrets.

Mon-El can deal with that.

*

“What ware you doing, Mon-El,” Kara hisses as soon as Dey is out of the door.

Mon-El raises his hands. “Just making conversation.”

She looks around nervously and lowers her voice even further. “The hell you were. A ‘lifesaver’, ‘let’s grab drinks afterwards’… You, you were flirting with him.”

Mon-El grins at her. “So what if I was?”

“You, you can’t! You can’t just waltz in, straight from the future, out of nowhere and flirt with William.”

He frowns. “Why not? What’s it to you?”

“He’s a human! A civilian! And innocent!”

“If you’re gonna let that stop you, fine. Doesn’t mean everybody has to.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest. “If you’re not gonna date him, I will!”

Her eyes grow wide as saucers and she gasps wordlessly. “You, you wouldn’t.”

Mon-El shrugs.”You aren’t interested in dating him.”

Her face grows red with a mixture of anger and something else. “I’m not.”

“And there’s nothing between us anymore.”

“There sure as hell isn’t anymore!”

He shrugs, taunting her. “Then why do you care?”

“I don’t!” _Oh, Kara, as stubborn as ever._

“So what’s the problem then? What’s it to you who William has drinks with?”

He can see her grasping for a reply. “You don’t even like him!”

“I don’t know.” Mon-El shrugs. “I might. He’s pretty cute.”

“Cute!”

Mon-El rolls his eyes. “Okay, smart. Friendly. Good heart.” He can’t resist the temptation. “Killer abs, I bet. Look, Kara, William is a grown man. He can take of himself.”

 _If looks could kill,…_ Well, technically hers can, he knows he’s lucky that Kara is too moral for that. He knows that he’s being petty, but something about seeing her eyes flare with anger rather than being dulled by sadness makes his blood run hot. Kara is a fighter. He hates seeing her dejected. And right now, she looks like she’s about to stomp her feet in anger. It might be selfish, but he prefers seeing her like this, even if he bears the brunch of her displeasure.

“Fine!” she hisses and whirls around.

Mon-El follows her with his eyes, his heart beating nervously. Pangs of guilt mix with a strange satisfaction that he can still get under her skin and the quiet conviction that she’s wrong. Wrong to deny herself happiness. She’s furious and maybe if he’s lucky, if William is lucky it might even make her do something stupid, something rash.

*

He finds her standing in the usual spot, looking out over the city. His eyes are drawn to her back, the slope of her shoulders, the way her cape falls gracefully as if to invite his hands to ruffle it. His steps take him towards her and he isn’t sure if it should calm or disquiet him that apparently she can tell it’s him without having to look. Kara’s stance is tense and her shoulders shift as he approaches her. She leans further forward her gaze trained on the nightly city. Mon-El can tell she is working through a lot of unpleasant thoughts from the way her fingers angrily work the concrete of the balustrade

“So, how was your date?” she says bitterly, at last breaking the silence.

He sighs and takes the spot beside her.

“Didn’t go.” This isn’t what he wanted

Her head whips around sharply as she stares at him in surprise. “You… didn’t?”

“Nope. Made up an excuse. Felt pretty bad about it.”

Kara’s mouth opens in surprise, then closes again. At last, she looks at him. “Did, did William even know that it was going to be a date for you?”

Mon-El grins despite himself. “Probably not. But he would have found out very quickly.” He takes a deep breath. “Kara, if you want to date him, you should.”

Her fingers grip the edge of the balcony more tightly. Her jaw is set, but there is just a hint of tears glistening in her eyes. “I can’t,” she finally breathes.

His heart aches for her. “I want to see you happy, I really do.” _I hate seeing you like this._ “You deserve this.” _You deserve to feel good._

Her voice is frail and vulnerable. “Would you, I mean, if you really had dated William, would you have told him, about being an alien?”

Mon-El sighs. It’s painful to see her this unsure. But she’s asking him for honesty. “Yes. I would have,” he says simply.

A weak smile appears on her face. “Just like that?”

“Probably.” It’s hard to explain. They are so different in that regard. “I found it to be … a surprisingly good conversation starter.” He winks at her. “Humans dig it.”

She’s taken aback.

“At least with me,” he adds quickly. Like it or not, it might not be the same for women. “I think William would understand. He just seems like that kind of guy, s’far as I can tell.”

Kara sighs. “It’s just so big.”

Mon-El inches closer to her. “Doesn’t have to be,” he says softly. “Please, if you like him, don’t let him slip by.” _The kind of lives we live, we have to grasp happiness, whenever we can find it._

Kara rubs her palm over her face. “You really have the worst timing, Mon-El”

“You sure about that?”

She laughs despite herself. Mon-El sees her shoulder’s tremble. He should have realized what was coming, but it still feels like a punch to the gut when she throws herself against his chest and he gets to wrap his arms around her and hold her, just hold her. It’s so beautiful, it feels like pain.

“You suck, Daxamite, you really suck,” she whispers, but her voice is so soft, it feels like an endearment and he’s surprised how much this feels like comfort.

“Sorry about that.” _I get the feeling I'm always gonna be a little mad at you._ Kara looks up at him and her eyes are brilliant and endless, it takes his breath away and he begins to wonder what possessed him to suspect her for lack of bravery in asking out William, when it is so amply clear that she is fearless. A painful warmth builds up in his veins. Her comets have always been his weakness, pulling him in, making him want to say things that maybe shouldn’t be said. Things like …

“I love you Kara. And I know that you don’t need my help. I want to make things better for you, not worse and it kills me when I feel like I don’t know whether I’m doing one or the other.”

“Mon-El…”

“That’s not what I planned. I didn’t come here to get involved. I didn’t want to mess things up between you and William, make things more complicated.”

“I believe you.”

Her words stop him dead in his tracks.

Over time Mon-El has come to associate the deliriums of his late home planet as his nightmare, as the origin of their folly and their failings. It’s the thing Mon-El’s mind goes back to when he tries to parse the enormity of their guilt when he tries to explain to himself what made them different. He quietly swore off those more extreme indulgences when he started being Kara’s boyfriend. Except it seems like the biggest lie of them all when she herself is his greatest intoxicant.

 _Whether we are together or not._ He’s never really figured out how to stop loving her and maybe it’s about time he stopped trying. When he looks up to meet her eyes, their lips are almost close enough to kiss again and Mon-El is surprised with just how fine with that he is. Her eyes so grand and luminous in the dark, large enough to swallow his fate. Her small hands clasp his, holding him in place.

Just standing here feels like an indulgence. To just look at her feels like he’s making love to her with his eyes.

And the most frightening part of it is that Kara is standing here with him, not pulling away.

“I have to think,” she says softly.

His eyes follow her as she flies off. Mon-El blinks and asks itself how the hell he got here. Only minutes ago he was determined to encourage her to finally open her heart to somebody else and now every cell in his body wants to follow her and hold her and kiss her over and over till both their lips are numb.

*

She leaves him conflicted and confused. A subtle burn on the end of his nerves. Mon-El tries to distract himself by working out down in the bowels of the DEO, but he can’t, can’t stop his thoughts from circling around her. To know that she is out there, probably perched on a rooftop somewhere, contemplating her life, contemplating _him_.

It’s like a sword of judgment hanging over him and he had no idea that that was coming. _Grife,_ before he didn’t even know that he was in the running to be thought on at all and to be honest he still isn’t completely sure where he stands and on what exactly.

Suddenly his earpiece clicks to life.

“Meet me at the apartment. I left the window open.”

*

He is there before her, waiting, his stomach twisted into nervous knots.

Her soft boots connect with the floor, the cape flapping behind her. She’s a majestic appearance, as always. Ready to break his breath away. It’s been so long since the last time since he stood in this place and it occurs to him that he doesn’t really know her like this, new suit, new hair, even the way Kara carries herself is tantalizingly different. She looks so proud as she stands in front of him, looking at him.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” she admits. “About William, you, what I want out of life.”

Mon-El’s heart is thundering in his chest. Somehow he can’t shake the feeling like he is waiting for a final judgment. One that will decide his fate. _Nothing is stopping us._

“So, what did you come up with?” he asks, feigning lightness.

“A lot. And not much at all.” Kara sighs, her hands paint an invisible shape in the air, before she looks up again, at him. “Maybe it’s my fate to love you,” she says, half-jokingly, her smile coy.

His heart leaps into his throat. “Hope that’s a good thing.”

She steps up to him. “Guess we’ll have to find out.”

Mon-El stares at her lips, hypnotized because he’s afraid what will happen if he opts to meet her eyes. Those soft, beloved lips come closer and then they brush against his. That can’t be it. Mon-El is pretty sure he didn’t move, so this could only have happened if Kara moved to kiss him and obviously that can’t be real. Her hands slip into his hair, gripping it and there’s her sigh against his mouth.

It can’t be real. Can’t be.

_With you, I don’t have to pretend._

She pulls away slowly and probingly licks across her lips as if she wants to taste the memory of his kiss. And then, she leans in and picks herself another.

Somewhere inside of him, there is this greedy, spoiled prince boy who just wants to take everything that is offered. Who doesn’t want to think about whether she’ll regret it in the morning, whether she would be better off with another man. Who just want to hold and kiss and be happy and in love. In love with _her_.

He does battle with the man he has become, with the man he wants to be for her. The smarter, calmer, wiser man, who just wants to love her and protect her from his worst instincts. Who wants to live only to make her happy, make her proud and just quietly bask in friendship. The one who has no idea how to deal with her smile, her eyes, her kiss. Defenseless and swept away like he’s always been.

“I still love you,” Mon-El stutters. His heart freezes as he waits for her reaction. To his astonishment, her smile is wide and brilliant.

“I know,” she whispers, her cheeks darkened by a sweet blush, and then her lips find his again.

His brain desperately scrambles to remember all the lessons she taught him, but right now he’s pretty sure one of those was about recognizing the moment when to just shut up and kiss her. His hands grab hold of her midriff, stroke across the unfamiliar fabric of her new suit.

Mon-El, Champion of Earth in the 31st century, Founder of The Legion of Super-Heroes, thinks that he might be about to pass out in front of Kara Zor-El, the love of his life. Though if he thinks about it, falling to his knees in front of her seems like a completely reasonable reaction.

Except that would require him to remove his lips from hers and that can’t be right. And so he deepens their kiss, tastes the wonders of her mouth as his hands incredulously continue their wondrous journey across her body. Every new inch he gets re-explore sends a spark up Mon-El’s arm.

He can’t decide what he wants more. To get to know her like this, to run his hand over her suit covered legs, her thighs, to taste what it feels like against his tongue or to strip her bare, down to the Kara underneath he knows so well. The one who is remembered by his hands, his heart, by every fiber of his being. Her emblem still covers her chest. He runs his finger along the seams of her suit, up to the clasps that hold her cape. His heart thunders on.

His Supergirl.

Her hand caresses over his chest and pushes him back playfully. Kara’s eyes dart around the room towards the bedroom door.

“Are you coming?”, she whispers and Mon-EL’s heart jumps into overdrive. He fights the urge to ask her whether she really means it, out of fear that she’ll pull away again. But of course, he is a fool. A fool in love. And so he follows when she leads, drawn by the promise of her body, both familiar and new.

*

“I still don’t know what I want,” Kara says afterwards. Her admission sends a tiny little dart into Mon-El’s chest, but one look at her makes him suspect that maybe what she’s saying isn’t exactly true and so he leans in and claims a little kiss from her lips.

“I can wait,” he says. Her eyes are close and beautiful, just the way he loves them. He blows softly against her bangs, sending them dancing. Mon-El tries to remember when she wasn’t here, resting her head on his chest, her body curled around him, but his mind comes up empty. “I always was your dirty little secret,” he muses.

“Hey!” she exclaims and he leans in to catch the complaints from her lips.

It’s a strange and unexpected gift, to realize that he still has her heart. Mon-El figures he should probably question that, but right now, he can’t. Not when he’s just so quietly glad to be in this situation.

He breathes her in. Commemorates her scent, her presence into his soul. That ardent glimmer of hope that can drive men to madness. He was never good with hope, it’s probably a good thing that she’s so good at it. He rubs his nose against her cheek. “I’ll take care of it,” he says. “Your heart, I mean.”

“You will?” Her voice can’t quite decide between sarcasm and genuine gratitude. 

Mon-El runs one finger along her cheek. “No matter what happens, remember, I’m never not in love with you.”

He hears her take a big breath, but his heart is just way too happy to be worried. “I’ll take time,” Kara warns one more time.

“Good. Take everything you need. However you decide, I’ll be here.”

“What if I do want to date William?” Mon-El has to hide his grin against the crown of her golden hair.

“Sure. Go for it.” He pulls away far enough to look at her and sees the doubt in her eyes. “I mean it,” he adds for emphasis.

“You really have changed,” she murmurs.

“A little,” he admits and kisses her. “But not enough.” And looking deeply into her eyes he knows that part of him? That part that’s always going to be in love with her? It’s never going to change and he’s done pretending that he wants it to.


End file.
